Off To Never Never Land!
by Harai
Summary: Kagome gets assigned to read a novel at school. One night a stranger shows up at the house. He asks her to come with him. and he ends up betraying her, just like when......Pain doesnt hurt...when it's all you've ever felt.
1. Morning at The Higurashi House

**Harai: Alright! The First Chapter is up! I might put a translation chapter in later. Hmm? Maybe not. I'm not sure. I'm writing this on 'Word Perfect' this program should go to hell! I hate it.**

**Mika: Crazy person!**

**Harai: GO TO YOUR CORNER!**

**Mika:grumbles incoherent things about people on crack as she walks to corner of room:

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**Chapter 1  
****A Morning at the Higurashi House

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"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!"

"Chikuso!" a fifteen year old, raven haired girl screamed as she ripped her covers off and threw the alarm clock across her room, gasping as she realized how bright it was. "Fucking sunshine" she murmured from under her comforter.

"Kagome! Get your ass out of bed now! Your gonna be late for school!" Michiko Higurashi yelled from downstairs. "Shit." Kagome said as she jumped out of bed and put on her baggy, black pants. She hooked her chains to her pants and slipped on a black t-shirt that said 'I like you. You remind me of when I was young and stupid.'

"Miroku! Out of bed, Now!" their mother yelled. Miroku was Kagome's twin brother. He was the older of the siblings. They also had a twelve year old brother named Sota. Kagome walked out of her room and was met in the hall by Miroku.

"Morn'n Kag's"

"Hey Roku, ready for another day of hell?"

"No"

"We're late, aren't we?"

"Yep"

"You wanna skip home room ?"

"Why not."

"If your late for school one more time no more computers!" their mom called from the kitchen. "Nooooooooo," kagome yelled and ran for the front door. She got half way down the shrine steps before she realized that she forgot her giant book bag. She dropped her skateboard on the ground. Just as twirled around and was about to run back up the steps, she ran into Miroku. Making them trip over the skateboard and fall all the way down to the bottom."Fucking Steps!" they yelled in unison. She looked over to see if miroku was alright and realized that he had brought her book bag with him. "Sorry Roku! Thanks for bringing my bag." "No problem Kags." Then they jumped on their boards and rode to school.

Miroku and Kagome were the only punks in the school the rest were preps, jocks and geeks. Roku led the way to their spot, the table underneath the oak tree. Kags took out her CD player and turned on 'Empty Apartment' by Yellowcard and began to sing in her beautiful voice.

_I called you out, __you stayed inside,  
__one you love, __is where you hide,  
__shot me down __as I flew by  
__crash and burn  
__I think sometimes __you forget where the heart is_

_answer no __to these questions  
__let her go, __learn a lesson  
__its not me  
__your not listening __now,  
__can't you see __somethings missing  
__you forget where the heart is_

_take you away  
__from that empty apartment  
__you stay  
__and forget where the heart is  
some day, If ever you loved me you'd say  
__it's okay_

_waking up __from this nightmare  
__how's your life?  
__what's it like there?  
__is it all __what you want it to be,  
__does it hurt __when you think about me  
__and how broken my heart is,_

_take you away  
__from that empty apartment  
__you stay __and forget where the heart is  
__some day, __if ever you've loved me __you'd say  
__its okay_

_it's okay to be angry and never let go  
__it only gets harder the more that you know  
__so when you get lonely and no one's around  
__you know that I'll catch you when your falling down  
__we came together but you left alone  
__and I know how it feels to walk out on your own  
__maybe someday I will see you again  
__and you'll look me in my eyes and call me your friend_

_take you away  
__from that empty apartment  
__you stay __and forget where the heart is  
__some day, __if ever you've loved me __you'd say  
__its okay_

_it's okay...  
__it's okay_

"Brrrringgggggg"

Kagome got up and put away her CD-player and she and Miroku walked to their first class, English.

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Harai: Yeah, Yeah, I know, Short chapter. I plan on making them longer. I'm kinda in writers block. I have two chapters done so far. Whether I post it or not is up to you. R&R pleze!**

**Harai: This is my 2nd chappie. Yippy!**

**Mika: Harai! Did you take your meds. Today?**

**Harai: umm...no...was I supposed to?**

**Mika: you don't as long as you don't yell 'crack feine!'**

**Harai: ...CRRRRAAAAAAACCCCCKKKK FFFEEEIIIINNNNNEEEEE!...**

**Mika:grabs pill bottle off table: 'only take one every 24 hours' "COME HERE! HARAI!"**

**Harai: Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!**


	2. His name is Tatewaki

**Harai: This is my 2nd chappie. Yippy!**

**Mika: Harai! Did you take your meds. Today?**

**Harai: umm...no...was I supposed to?**

**Mika: you don't as long as you don't yell 'crack feine!'**

**Harai: ...CRRRRAAAAAAACCCCCKKKK FFFEEEIIIINNNNNEEEEE!...**

**Mika:grabs pill bottle off table: 'only take one every 24 hours' "COME HERE! HARAI!"**

**Harai: Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!**

**

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Chapter 2  
School and Tatewaki Hojo

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Miroku greeted the teach his usual way. A firm squeeze on the cheek. "AIEEEEEEEEEEE" the teacher squealed. He ran to his desk and sat quickly. The teacher raised her arm as if to hit him.

"That's against school policy!"

"GO TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE! NOW!"

"But, Miss Yura!" he stated getting up out of his chair. All of a sudden, a pile of books appeared in front of his feet and of course, he trips. As he falls, he grabs the one spot on a women a gentlemen should never grab. I think he was about to die from fear. Miss Yura took in a deep breath. "What's this? A boy I barely know sticking his hand down my chest?" "HENTAI!" she pulls a giant hammer from out of nowhere. "THE HELL WITH SCHOOL POLICY!" miroku squealed like a little girl and started running around the class room. Miss Yura gave chase. "KAGS! I'LL SEE YOU LATER!" And he ran out of the room after Miss Yura had hit him twice with the mallet. Kagome just rolled her eyes. Miroku had made five teachers quit this year because of his 'wandering hands.' This teacher was probably going to quit soon. Kags would meet Roku later.

Miss Yura took another deep breath to regain her composure while the class snickered. "Today Class, we will be starting a new novel. It's called Peter Pan," she stated simply. The class grumbled. 'Oh Joy.' Kagome thought. The teacher passed out the books. Kagome's book was ripped and torn and must have been at least thirty years old. She looked at the teacher like she was mad. Was this even legible? "Okay class,-"

"Brrrringggggg"

"Oh, Shoot," the teacher said. "Class, I want you to read chapter one tonight." Miss Yura yelled as her students ran out of the room.

Next period was algebra. 'Wonderful, fantastic, tremendous, USEFUL algebra,' Kagome thought sarcastically. "I hate algebra" she said to herself. A girl named Maiyu was watching kagome talk to herself.

"You know only crazy people talk to themselves." Maiyu tried to get a response from kagome.

"So...your point is?" Kagome asked, stopping to glare at the girl

"Your insane!" Maiyu stated.

"Why, thank you!" kagome said, her glare turning quickly to a smile. Maiyu just walked away. Quickly. "Gullible people. Bakas." she told herself. Kagome was going to be late now. But she didn't care. The more algebra she missed. The less she'd have to listen to.

After the algebra teacher lectured her for ten minutes, Kagome took her seat at the back of the room. The desk beside her was empty because Miroku wasn't back from the office yet. She was about to move her books over because-. "KAGOME, MY LOVE!" -too late. A boy named Hojo slid into the seat next to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Kags smacked him over the head. "Take another step towards me, Hojo, and you'll regret it." For some reason Hojo wanted Kagome. I guess he thought she was a challenge. And he couldn't get it that she didn't want him. (Like how some guys think 'no' means 'yes' and 'get the fuck away from me' means 'take me I'm yours')

"My love, I bought you this." he says as he holds up a doll.

"What the fuck?"

"It's a cute dolly" he said.

"I know what it is!"

"I bought this as a symbol of our love. I have a male version of it."

"Hojo,"she said hanging her head sadly. She snapped her head back up, "IF YOU GIVE ME THAT STUPID, FUCKING THING, I WILL BURN THE FUCKING THING, RUN OVER IT, FINALLY BLOWING IT UP, WHILE THINKING IT WAS YOU!" she took a deep breath.

"Oh, My love!" he grabs Kagome and embraces her in a passionate hug.

:WHAM:

"GET YOUR GRIMY ASS HANDS OFF MY SISTER!" Miroku yelled as he hit Hojo again. Hojo recovered quickly. Miroku stood between him and Kagome. His rose a hand to his face and touched the sore spot lightly, becoming enraged. "HOW DARE YOU STRIKE THE FACE OF TATEWAKI HOJO! FINE THEN, I CHALLENGE YOU!"

:BAM:

Kagome had stood up and kicked Hojo where it counts. "If you even try to hurt my brother, I'll kick your ass!" she yelled.

"Kagome and Miroku Higurashi! To the principals office!" the teacher finally noticed they were fighting. "No need to, we're leaving. C'mon Kagome." Miroku said as he grabbed his book bag and left the room, Kagome following in suit.

The twins were very protective of each other. They had a very special bond. Not only were they brother and sister. But they acted more like friends than relatives. They always backed each other up, except when the cause of Miroku's suffering was his hands, than he was on his own.

"Thanks Roku. That jackass was really starting to get on my nerves"

"He was starting to piss me off too."

"What are we gonna tell mom?"

"I dunno?"

"Fuck!" Kagome yelled, stopping right next to 'their' spot outside.

"What?"

"I won't be able to go on the computer anymore!" She wined. "Just great, I have to read a stupid novel!"

"What's it called?" Inquired Roku.

"Peter Pan?" she said.

He laughed, "That sucks Kags! It's a story for little kids."

"Greaaat." she wondered if she was cursed. "I'm gonna just sit here and read chapter one."

She loved to climb trees. So, that's what she did. She climbed up the oak tree to sit on a high branch. It was perfect to sit on. Miroku sat below her and took out his notebook. He was an artist. He loved drawling anime art. Kagome took one more look at him then opened the book to chapter one, page one.

**

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Harai: Okkie Dokkie! Watcha Thinks?**

**Mika: Funny but...not...**

**Harai: Would you like to meet 'Moonfang'?**

**Mika: ...OK!**

**Harai:draws sword:**

**Mika: um...phew! Review! hey! I rhymed!...uh oh...**


	3. All Children Grow UpExcept One

**Harai: OMG! I accually got off my lazy ass and did this chapter!...Acually I just copied and pasted. This chapter isn't mine. It is the 1st and 2nd chapters of 'Peter and Wendy' by: J. M. Barrie.**

**Mika: Yep! InuYasha isn't hers either!**

**Harai: NOOOOOOOOOOO!

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**Chapter 3  
All Children Grow Up...Except One.**

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_(Chapter 1 of Peter and Wendy - Peter Breaks Through)_

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

Of course they lived at 14, and until Wendy came her mother was the chief one. She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner.

The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had been boys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, who took a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her. He got all of her, except the innermost box and the kiss. He never knew about the box, and in time he gave up trying for the kiss. Wendy thought Napoleon could have got it, but I can picture him trying, and then going off in a passion, slamming the door.

Mr. Darling used to boast to Wendy that her mother not only loved him but respected him. He was one of those deep ones who know about stocks and shares. Of course no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know, and he often said stocks were up and shares were down in a way that would have made any woman respect him.

Mrs. Darling was married in white, and at first she kept the books perfectly, almost gleefully, as if it were a game, not so much as a Brussels sprout was missing; but by and by whole cauliflowers dropped out, and instead of them there were pictures of babies without faces. She drew them when she should have been totting up. They were Mrs. Darling's guesses.

Wendy came first, then John, then Michael.

For a week or two after Wendy came it was doubtful whether they would be able to keep her, as she was another mouth to feed. Mr. Darling was frightfully proud of her, but he was very honourable, and he sat on the edge of Mrs. Darling's bed, holding her hand and calculating expenses, while she looked at him imploringly. She wanted to risk it, come what might, but that was not his way; his way was with a pencil and a piece of paper, and if she confused him with suggestions he had to begin at the beginning again.

"Now don't interrupt," he would beg of her. "I have one pound seventeen here, and two and six at the office; I can cut off my coffee at the office, say ten shillings, making two nine and six, with your eighteen and three makes three nine seven, with five naught naught in my cheque-book makes eight nine seven--who is that moving?--eight nine seven, dot and carry seven--don't speak, my own--and the pound you lent to that man who came to the door--quiet, child--dot and carry child--there, you've done it!--did I say nine nine seven? yes, I said nine nine seven; the question is, can we try it for a year on nine nine seven?"

"Of course we can, George," she cried. But she was prejudiced in Wendy's favour, and he was really the grander character of the two.

"Remember mumps," he warned her almost threateningly, and off he went again. "Mumps one pound, that is what I have put down, but I daresay it will be more like thirty shillings--don't speak--measles one five, German measles half a guinea, makes two fifteen six--don't waggle your finger--whooping-cough, say fifteen shillings"--and so on it went, and it added up differently each time; but at last Wendy just got through, with mumps reduced to twelve six, and the two kinds of measles treated as one.

There was the same excitement over John, and Michael had even a narrower squeak; but both were kept, and soon, you might have seen the three of them going in a row to Miss Fulsom's Kindergarten school, accompanied by their nurse.

Mrs. Darling loved to have everything just so, and Mr. Darling had a passion for being exactly like his neighbours; so, of course, they had a nurse. As they were poor, owing to the amount of milk the children drank, this nurse was a prim Newfoundland dog, called Nana, who had belonged to no one in particular until the Darlings engaged her. She had always thought children important, however, and the Darlings had become acquainted with her in Kensington Gardens, where she spent most of her spare time peeping into perambulators, and was much hated by careless nursemaids, whom she followed to their homes and complained of to their mistresses. She proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse. How thorough she was at bath-time, and up at any moment of the night if one of her charges made the slightest cry. Of course her kennel was in the nursery. She had a genius for knowing when a cough is a thing to have no patience with and when it needs stocking around your throat. She believed to her last day in old-fashioned remedies like rhubarb leaf, and made sounds of contempt over all this new-fangled talk about germs, and so on. It was a lesson in propriety to see her escorting the children to school, walking sedately by their side when they were well behaved, and butting them back into line if they strayed. On John's footer days she never once forgot his sweater, and she usually carried an umbrella in her mouth in case of rain. There is a room in the basement of Miss Fulsom's school where the nurses wait. They sat on forms, while Nana lay on the floor, but that was the only difference. They affected to ignore her as of an inferior social status to themselves, and she despised their light talk. She resented visits to the nursery from Mrs. Darling's friends, but if they did come she first whipped off Michael's pinafore and put him into the one with blue braiding, and smoothed out Wendy and made a dash at John's hair.

No nursery could possibly have been conducted more correctly, and Mr. Darling knew it, yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether the neighbours talked.

He had his position in the city to consider.

Nana also troubled him in another way. He had sometimes a feeling that she did not admire him. "I know she admires you tremendously, George," Mrs. Darling would assure him, and then she would sign to the children to be specially nice to father. Lovely dances followed, in which the only other servant, Liza, was sometimes allowed to join. Such a midget she looked in her long skirt and maid's cap, though she had sworn, when engaged, that she would never see ten again. The gaiety of those romps! And gayest of all was Mrs. Darling, who would pirouette so wildly that all you could see of her was the kiss, and then if you had dashed at her you might have got it. There never was a simpler happier family until the coming of Peter Pan.

Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children's minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find it very interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek as if it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out your prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.

I don't know whether you have ever seen a map of a person's mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map can become intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of a child's mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all the time. There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on a card, and these are probably roads in the island, for the Neverland is always more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour here and there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, and savages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and caves through which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and a hut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all, but there is also first day at school, religion, fathers, the round pond, needle-work, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day, getting into braces, say ninety-nine, three-pence for pulling out your tooth yourself, and so on, and either these are part of the island or they are another map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especially as nothing will stand still.

Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had a lagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which John was shooting, while Michael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in a wigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had no friends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken by its parents, but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they have each other's nose, and so forth. On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.

Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and most compact, not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances between one adventure and another, but nicely crammed. When you play at it by day with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming, but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very real. That is why there are night-lights.

Occasionally in her travels through her children's minds Mrs. Darling found things she could not understand, and of these quite the most perplexing was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter, and yet he was here and there in John and Michael's minds, while Wendy's began to be scrawled all over with him. The name stood out in bolder letters than any of the other words, and as Mrs. Darling gazed she felt that it had an oddly cocky appearance.

"Yes, he is rather cocky," Wendy admitted with regret. Her mother had been questioning her.

"But who is he, my pet?"

"He is Peter Pan, you know, mother."

At first Mrs. Darling did not know, but after thinking back into her childhood she just remembered a Peter Pan who was said to live with the fairies. There were odd stories about him, as that when children died he went part of the way with them, so that they should not be frightened. She had believed in him at the time, but now that she was married and full of sense she quite doubted whether there was any such person.

"Besides," she said to Wendy, "he would be grown up by this time."

"Oh no, he isn't grown up," Wendy assured her confidently, "and he is just my size." She meant that he was her size in both mind and body; she didn't know how she knew, she just knew it.

Mrs. Darling consulted Mr. Darling, but he smiled pooh-pooh. "Mark my words," he said, "it is some nonsense Nana has been putting into their heads; just the sort of idea a dog would have. Leave it alone, and it will blow over."

But it would not blow over and soon the troublesome boy gave Mrs. Darling quite a shock.

Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week after the event happened, that when they were in the wood they had met their dead father and had a game with him. It was in this casual way that Wendy one morning made a disquieting revelation. Some leaves of a tree had been found on the nursery floor, which certainly were not there when the children went to bed, and Mrs. Darling was puzzling over them when Wendy said with a tolerant smile:

"I do believe it is that Peter again!"

"Whatever do you mean, Wendy?"

"It is so naughty of him not to wipe his feet," Wendy said, sighing. She was a tidy child.

She explained in quite a matter-of-fact way that she thought Peter sometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the foot of her bed and played on his pipes to her. Unfortunately she never woke, so she didn't know how she knew, she just knew.

"What nonsense you talk, precious. No one can get into the house without knocking."

"I think he comes in by the window," she said.

"My love, it is three floors up."

"Were not the leaves at the foot of the window, mother?"

It was quite true; the leaves had been found very near the window.

Mrs. Darling did not know what to think, for it all seemed so natural to Wendy that you could not dismiss it by saying she had been dreaming.

"My child," the mother cried, "why did you not tell me of this before?"

"I forgot," said Wendy lightly. She was in a hurry to get her breakfast.

Oh, surely she must have been dreaming.

But, on the other hand, there were the leaves. Mrs. Darling examined them very carefully; they were skeleton leaves, but she was sure they did not come from any tree that grew in England. She crawled about the floor, peering at it with a candle for marks of a strange foot. She rattled the poker up the chimney and tapped the walls. She let down a tape from the window to the pavement, and it was a sheer drop of thirty feet, without so much as a spout to climb up by.

Certainly Wendy had been dreaming.

But Wendy had not been dreaming, as the very next night showed, the night on which the extraordinary adventures of these children may be said to have begun.

On the night we speak of all the children were once more in bed. It happened to be Nana's evening off, and Mrs. Darling had bathed them and sung to them till one by one they had let go her hand and slid away into the land of sleep.

All were looking so safe and cosy that she smiled at her fears now and sat down tranquilly by the fire to sew.

It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting into shirts. The fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly lit by three night-lights, and presently the sewing lay on Mrs. Darling's lap. Then her head nodded, oh, so gracefully. She was asleep. Look at the four of them, Wendy and Michael over there, John here, and Mrs. Darling by the fire. There should have been a fourth night-light.

While she slept she had a dream. She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and that a strange boy had broken through from it. He did not alarm her, for she thought she had seen him before in the faces of many women who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in the faces of some mothers also. But in her dream he had rent the film that obscures the Neverland, and she saw Wendy and John and Michael peeping through the gap.

The dream by itself would have been a trifle, but while she was dreaming the window of the nursery blew open, and a boy did drop on the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light, no bigger than your fist, which darted about the room like a living thing and I think it must have been this light that wakened Mrs. Darling.

She started up with a cry, and saw the boy, and somehow she knew at once that he was Peter Pan. If you or I or Wendy had been there we should have seen that he was very like Mrs. Darling's kiss. He was a lovely boy, clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees but the most entrancing thing about him was that he had all his first teeth. When he saw she was a grown-up, he gnashed the little pearls at her.

_(Chapter 2 of Peter and Wendy - The Shadow)_

Mrs. Darling screamed, and, as if in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana entered, returned from her evening out. She growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt lightly through the window. Again Mrs. Darling screamed, this time in distress for him, for she thought he was killed, and she ran down into the street to look for his little body, but it was not there; and she looked up, and in the black night she could see nothing but what she thought was a shooting star.

She returned to the nursery, and found Nana with something in her mouth, which proved to be the boy's shadow. As he leapt at the window Nana had closed it quickly, too late to catch him, but his shadow had not had time to get out; slam went the window and snapped it off.

You may be sure Mrs. Darling examined the shadow carefully, but it was quite the ordinary kind.

Nana had no doubt of what was the best thing to do with this shadow. She hung it out at the window, meaning "He is sure to come back for it; let us put it where he can get it easily without disturbing the children."

But unfortunately Mrs. Darling could not leave it hanging out at the window, it looked so like the washing and lowered the whole tone of the house. She thought of showing it to Mr. Darling, but he was totting up winter great-coats for John and Michael, with a wet towel around his head to keep his brain clear, and it seemed a shame to trouble him; besides, she knew exactly what he would say: "It all comes of having a dog for a nurse."

She decided to roll the shadow up and put it away carefully in a drawer, until a fitting opportunity came for telling her husband. Ah me!

The opportunity came a week later, on that never-to-be-forgotten Friday. Of course it was a Friday.

"I ought to have been specially careful on a Friday," she used to say afterwards to her husband, while perhaps Nana was on the other side of her, holding her hand.

"No, no," Mr. Darling always said, "I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling, did it. _Mea culpa, mea culpa._" He had had a classical education.

They sat thus night after night recalling that fatal Friday, till every detail of it was stamped on their brains and came through on the other side like the faces on a bad coinage.

"If only I had not accepted that invitation to dine at 27," Mrs. Darling said.

"If only I had not poured my medicine into Nana's bowl," said Mr. Darling.

"If only I had pretended to like the medicine," was what Nana's wet eyes said.

"My liking for parties, George."

"My fatal gift of humour, dearest."

"My touchiness about trifles, dear master and mistress."

Then one or more of them would break down altogether; Nana at the thought, "It's true, it's true, they ought not to have had a dog for a nurse." Many a time it was Mr. Darling who put the handkerchief to Nana's eyes.

"That fiend!" Mr. Darling would cry, and Nana's bark was the echo of it, but Mrs. Darling never upbraided Peter; there was something in the right-hand corner of her mouth that wanted her not to call Peter names.

They would sit there in the empty nursery, recalling fondly every smallest detail of that dreadful evening. It had begun so uneventfully, so precisely like a hundred other evenings, with Nana putting on the water for Michael's bath and carrying him to it on her back.

"I won't go to bed," he had shouted, like one who still believed that he had the last word on the subject, "I won't, I won't. Nana, it isn't six o'clock yet. Oh dear, oh dear, I shan't love you any more, Nana. I tell you I won't be bathed, I won't, I won't!"

Then Mrs. Darling had come in, wearing her white evening-gown. She had dressed early because Wendy so loved to see her in her evening-gown, with the necklace George had given her. She was wearing Wendy's bracelet on her arm; she had asked for the loan of it. Wendy loved to lend her bracelet to her mother.

She had found her two older children playing at being herself and father on the occasion of Wendy's birth, and John was saying:

"I am happy to inform you, Mrs. Darling, that you are now a mother," in just such a tone as Mr. Darling himself may have used on the real occasion.

Wendy had danced with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must have done.

Then John was born, with the extra pomp that he conceived due to the birth of a male, and Michael came from his bath to ask to be born also, but John said brutally that they did not want any more.

Michael had nearly cried. "Nobody wants me," he said, and of course the lady in the evening-dress could not stand that.

"I do," she said, "I so want a third child."

"Boy or girl?" asked Michael, not too hopefully.

"Boy."

Then he had leapt into her arms. Such a little thing for Mr. and Mrs. Darling and Nana to recall now, but not so little if that was to be Michael's last night in the nursery.

They go on with their recollections.

"It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasn't it?" Mr. Darling would say, scorning himself; and indeed he had been like a tornado.

Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He, too, had been dressing for the party, and all had gone well with him until he came to his tie. It is an astounding thing to have to tell, but this man, though he knew about stocks and shares, had no real mastery of his tie. Sometimes the thing yielded to him without a contest, but there were occasions when it would have been better for the house if he had swallowed his pride and used a made-up tie.

This was such an occasion. He came rushing into the nursery with the crumpled little brute of a tie in his hand.

"Why, what is the matter, father dear?"

"Matter!" he yelled; he really yelled. "This tie, it will not tie." He became dangerously sarcastic. "Not round my neck! Round the bed-post! Oh yes, twenty times have I made it up round the bed-post, but round my neck, no! Oh dear no! begs to be excused!"

He thought Mrs. Darling was not sufficiently impressed, and he went on sternly, "I warn you of this, mother, that unless this tie is round my neck we don't go out to dinner to-night, and if I don't go out to dinner to-night, I never go to the office again, and if I don't go to the office again, you and I starve, and our children will be flung into the streets."

Even then Mrs. Darling was placid. "Let me try, dear," she said, and indeed that was what he had come to ask her to do, and with her nice cool hands she tied his tie for him, while the children stood around to see their fate decided. Some men would have resented her being able to do it so easily, but Mr. Darling had far too fine a nature for that; he thanked her carelessly, at once forgot his rage, and in another moment was dancing round the room with Michael on his back.

"How wildly we romped!" says Mrs. Darling now, recalling it.

"Our last romp!" Mr. Darling groaned.

"O George, do you remember Michael suddenly said to me, 'How did you get to know me, mother?'"

"I remember!"

"They were rather sweet, don't you think, George?"

"And they were ours, ours! and now they are gone."

The romp had ended with the appearance of Nana, and most unluckily Mr. Darling collided against her, covering his trousers with hairs. They were not only new trousers, but they were the first he had ever had with braid on them, and he had had to bite his lip to prevent the tears coming. Of course Mrs. Darling brushed him, but he began to talk again about its being a mistake to have a dog for a nurse.

"George, Nana is a treasure."

"No doubt, but I have an uneasy feeling at times that she looks upon the children as puppies.

"Oh no, dear one, I feel sure she knows they have souls."

"I wonder," Mr. Darling said thoughtfully, "I wonder." It was an opportunity, his wife felt, for telling him about the boy. At first he pooh-poohed the story, but he became thoughtful when she showed him the shadow.

"It is nobody I know," he said, examining it carefully, "but it does look a scoundrel."

"We were still discussing it, you remember," says Mr. Darling, "when Nana came in with Michael's medicine. You will never carry the bottle in your mouth again, Nana, and it is all my fault."

Strong man though he was, there is no doubt that he had behaved rather foolishly over the medicine. If he had a weakness, it was for thinking that all his life he had taken medicine boldly, and so now, when Michael dodged the spoon in Nana's mouth, he had said reprovingly, "Be a man, Michael."

"Won't; won't!" Michael cried naughtily. Mrs. Darling left the room to get a chocolate for him, and Mr. Darling thought this showed want of firmness.

"Mother, don't pamper him," he called after her. "Michael, when I was your age I took medicine without a murmur. I said, 'Thank you, kind parents, for giving me bottles to make we well.'"

He really thought this was true, and Wendy, who was now in her night-gown, believed it also, and she said, to encourage Michael, "That medicine you sometimes take, father, is much nastier, isn't it?"

"Ever so much nastier," Mr. Darling said bravely, "and I would take it now as an example to you, Michael, if I hadn't lost the bottle."

He had not exactly lost it; he had climbed in the dead of night to the top of the wardrobe and hidden it there. What he did not know was that the faithful Liza had found it, and put it back on his wash-stand.

"I know where it is, father," Wendy cried, always glad to be of service. "I'll bring it," and she was off before he could stop her. Immediately his spirits sank in the strangest way.

"John," he said, shuddering, "it's most beastly stuff. It's that nasty, sticky, sweet kind."

"It will soon be over, father," John said cheerily, and then in rushed Wendy with the medicine in a glass.

"I have been as quick as I could," she panted.

"You have been wonderfully quick," her father retorted, with a vindictive politeness that was quite thrown away upon her. "Michael first," he said doggedly.

"Father first," said Michael, who was of a suspicious nature.

"I shall be sick, you know," Mr. Darling said threateningly.

"Come on, father," said John.

"Hold your tongue, John," his father rapped out.

Wendy was quite puzzled. "I thought you took it quite easily, father."

"That is not the point," he retorted. "The point is, that there is more in my glass that in Michael's spoon." His proud heart was nearly bursting. "And it isn't fair: I would say it though it were with my last breath; it isn't fair."

"Father, I am waiting," said Michael coldly.

"It's all very well to say you are waiting; so am I waiting."

"Father's a cowardly custard."

"So are you a cowardly custard."

"I'm not frightened."

"Neither am I frightened."

"Well, then, take it."

"Well, then, you take it."

Wendy had a splendid idea. "Why not both take it at the same time?"

"Certainly," said Mr. Darling. "Are you ready, Michael?"

Wendy gave the words, one, two, three, and Michael took his medicine, but Mr. Darling slipped his behind his back.

There was a yell of rage from Michael, and "O father!" Wendy exclaimed.

"What do you mean by 'O father'?" Mr. Darling demanded. "Stop that row, Michael. I meant to take mine, but I--I missed it."

It was dreadful the way all the three were looking at him, just as if they did not admire him. "Look here, all of you," he said entreatingly, as soon as Nana had gone into the bathroom. "I have just thought of a splendid joke. I shall pour my medicine into Nana's bowl, and she will drink it, thinking it is milk!"

It was the colour of milk; but the children did not have their father's sense of humour, and they looked at him reproachfully as he poured the medicine into Nana's bowl. "What fun!" he said doubtfully, and they did not dare expose him when Mrs. Darling and Nana returned.

"Nana, good dog," he said, patting her, "I have put a little milk into your bowl, Nana."

Nana wagged her tail, ran to the medicine, and began lapping it. Then she gave Mr. Darling such a look, not an angry look: she showed him the great red tear that makes us so sorry for noble dogs, and crept into her kennel.

Mr. Darling was frightfully ashamed of himself, but he would not give in. In a horrid silence Mrs. Darling smelt the bowl. "O George," she said, "it's your medicine!"

"It was only a joke," he roared, while she comforted her boys, and Wendy hugged Nana. "Much good," he said bitterly, "my wearing myself to the bone trying to be funny in this house."

And still Wendy hugged Nana. "That's right," he shouted. "Coddle her! Nobody coddles me. Oh dear no! I am only the breadwinner, why should I be coddled--why, why, why!"

"George," Mrs. Darling entreated him, "not so loud; the servants will hear you." Somehow that had got into the way of calling Liza the servants.

"Let them!" he answered recklessly. "Bring in the whole world. But I refuse to allow that dog to lord it in my nursery for an hour longer."

The children wept, and Nana ran to him beseechingly, but he waved her back. He felt he was a strong man again. "In vain, in vain," he cried; "the proper place for you is the yard, and there you go to be tied up this instant."

"George, George," Mrs. Darling whispered, "remember what I told you about that boy."

Alas, he would not listen. He was determined to show who was master in that house, and when commands would not draw Nana from the kennel, he lured her out of it with honeyed words, and seizing her roughly, dragged her from the nursery. He was ashamed of himself, and yet he did it. It was all owing to his too affectionate nature, which craved for admiration. When he had tied her up in the back-yard, the wretched father went and sat in the passage, with his knuckles to his eyes.

In the meantime Mrs. Darling had put the children to bed in unwonted silence and lit their night-lights. They could hear Nana barking, and John whimpered, "It is because he is chaining her up in the yard," but Wendy was wiser.

"That is not Nana's unhappy bark," she said, little guessing what was about to happen; "that is her bark when she smells danger."

Danger!

"Are you sure, Wendy?"

"Oh, yes."

Mrs. Darling quivered and went to the window. It was securely fastened. She looked out, and the night was peppered with stars. They were crowding round the house, as if curious to see what was to take place there, but she did not notice this, nor that one or two of the smaller ones winked at her. Yet a nameless fear clutched at her heart and made her cry, "Oh, how I wish that I wasn't going to a party to-night!"

Even Michael, already half asleep, knew that she was perturbed, and he asked, "Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?"

"Nothing, precious," she said; "they are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children."

She went from bed to bed singing enchantments over them, and little Michael flung his arms round her. "Mother," he cried, "I'm glad of you." They were the last words she was to hear from him for a long time.

No. 27 was only a few yards distant, but there had been a slight fall of snow, and Father and Mother Darling picked their way over it deftly not to soil their shoes. They were already the only persons in the street, and all the stars were watching them. Stars are beautiful, but they may not take an active part in anything, they must just look on for ever. It is a punishment put on them for something they did so long ago that no star now knows what it was. So the older ones have become glassy-eyed and seldom speak (winking is the star language), but the little ones still wonder. They are not really friendly to Peter, who had a mischievous way of stealing up behind them and trying to blow them out; but they are so fond of fun that they were on his side to-night, and anxious to get the grown-ups out of the way. So as soon as the door of 27 closed on Mr. and Mrs. Darling there was a commotion in the firmament, and the smallest of all the stars in the Milky Way screamed out:

"Now, Peter!"

* * *

**Harai: Wow! That took up 19 pages!**

**Mika: Ur Kidding!**

**Harai: yup...oh...udont haf 2 review 4 this chappie...Thee hath not written thus chapter.**

**Mika: ...she didn't write the chapter...**


	4. Enter InuYasha

**Chapter 4**

**Enter InuYasha**

**Harai: **Okay peoples. I'm telling you now. I DO OWN Mark, Drew, Jami, Theo, Oki, and Myself (Harai)And "yume kokoro no gekko...ai." basically means "I wish for love."

**Hoshi aka Jami: **Yeah! and don't call her Brittany either. She nearly killed me for putting that as her name in my fanfic the other day. Check my fanfics out, 'piperjane-pie'

**Harai:** New People!

**Matt: **Your fic sucks!

**Harai:** You Mother #$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

::Harai unsheathes a large sword::

**Matt: **What are you doing with Tetsusaiga? ::slowly backs away::

**Harai:** Inu let me borrow it! ::smiles evilly::

**Matt:** Oh Shit.

**Hoshi:** I think you should start running now.

**Matt:** AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! ::Starts running::

**Harai:** Wait!!!!!!!! ::leaps after Matt::

**Hoshi: **Yep. He's a goner.

**Disclaimer: Roses are red, Violets are Blue, If you Own InuYasha, I'm Coming For You! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**Hoshi: **You forgot your meds, didn't you?

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**Chapter 4 - Enter InuYasha**

"Wow," Kagome said as she closed the book, "That sounds a lot like my life, without the Peter Pan part."

"You done yet?" Miroku asked, standing at the base of the tree. Kagome nodded a yes and jumped down from where she was sitting which was about 20 feet from the ground.

"How in the hell can you do that?" Miroku questioned, awed at her ability. "I would break my leg!"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just different."

"Yea. Different." he said leaning away from her.

"Lets go. I don't feel like school anymore." She grabbed her bag.

"Where are we going?"

"Mall?" she asked.

"Whatever."

(**A/N:** Yea, forgot to mention, not that it matters, but Kagome has a Baker Board, and Miroku has a Toy Machine (I own the Baker Board, and my bro. owns the Toy Machine) Ok I'm done)

So, they jumped on their boards and headed to the mall. The twins passed through 'Sears'(Hate that store!) and split up.

Kagome - "I'll meet you at Low Riders in an hour!"

(**A/N: **Low Riders is a real store if ya didn't know and I go there all the time)

Kagome went to Suncoast Video to look at anime movies, while miroku went to Spencer.

"Lets see...Lets see...What to buy?" She scanned the shelves.

"OMG! They have it!!!!!!!!" She screamed as she grabbed the DVD off the shelf. It was RayEarth. Then she rushed to the cash register to buy her 'new friend.'

(**A/N:** I didn't wanna put Inu in cause it would be weird.)

On the other side of the mall, Miroku was in the same state.

"Lets see...Lets see...What to buy?" He scanned the shelves. "OMG! They have it!!!!!!!!" He squealed. (lol, he squealed!) Guess what he was staring at....A hat that said "**SURF NAKED**"

(You perverts! What were you thinking?!?!)

Later

"Hey Kags! Guess what I got!" Miroku said excitedly, showing off his new cap.

"I can see...If you weren't so perverted, I would say it looked cool," she stated as they walked into Low Riders.

Kagome checked out decks while Miroku ....um...well....I don't really know where Miroku went.(Take a guess) Kagome walked up to the kid at the register.

"Hey, Drew!" she greeted.

"Wat's up Kaggie!" he teased.

She laughed. "Call me 'Kaggie' again and I'll hurt you," she said turning serious.

"........"

"Sooo, you get any new stuff in?" she questioned.

"We got new blades in yesterday?" he answered.

(**A/N:** is anyone wondering where Miroku is?)

"Really! I've been looking for aggressives!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"SMACK"

"BAM"

"YOU PERVERTS!!!!!!!!" a girl screamed from the BMX section of the store.

"Ah, I see Miroku and Mark are having fun," kagome said, stating the obvious.

Mark and Miroku walked up, grinning from ear to ear, both sporting red handprints. Mark was also 16. He had black hair. He was just as perverted as Miroku.

(**A/N:** think 16yr. old Toboe with black hair. If you don't know who toboe is...you need to watch wolf's rain. Neways back to the Fanfic. Oh and Drew is 18. He's about 6ft. Short black hair. Sry!)

"Has anyone seen Theo?" Kagome asked.

"He was in the back 'checking storage' last time I looked." Mark said with a perverted grin. She smacked him on the back of the head. "Get those perverted thoughts out of your head." Kagome fumed. She walked to the back room. "Theo?" she yelled. "Yea?" she heard him yell back. He had a note pad checking off things they needed to restock.

"You wanna go with all of us to Hot Topic?"

"Um...I'm not sure." he studdered. (You'll find out in a min.)

"C'mon man! You've got to get over it!"

"Fine."

Kagome, Mark, Theo, Miroku, and Drew all went to Hot Topic. And of course Kagome knew Jami, Harai and Oki, the girls who worked there.

(**A/N:** Ok. For you really stupid people, they are all best friends. If you had already figured that out, im sry.)

Harai gave her usual greeting, "Yo! Wat's up K-girl!"

"Shopping!" she yelled.

"Yeah and I got this cool hat!" Miroku said excitedly.

"....SURF'S UP!!!!" Theo suddenly yelled.

"............................................"

::everyone sweatdrops::

"eh...hehe..."

Theo and Jami used to go out. But then they broke it off because they were busy with other things. (If you have perverted thoughts right here I'll hurt you!) Mark strode over to Harai and put his arm around her waist. Mark had a thing for Harai and Kagome hoped they would go out. It would be really cute. Then everyone went to the arcade. Harai, Kagome, Oki and Jami played DDR (that's Dance Dance Revolution.) They were the best. Harai held the highest record in the town. That was because she had gotten a DDR mat and DDR-MAX2 for christmas.

Two hours later, they had been successfully kicked out of the mall. Mark and Harai had made a homemade bomb and it had covered an entire department store with flour.

(**A/N:** _Note to self: _NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!)

Everyone split and headed home. Miroku and Kagome headed up the 500 freaking stairs to the shrine. They walked across the yard and into the house. Kagome climbed upstairs to her room. (More stairs!) She dropped her bag on the floor and dove onto her bed, exhausted. She fell into a restless sleep. After ten minutes, she woke back up. She couldn't sleep right so she grabbed her blanket and slide her window open and climbed onto the roof. She spread the blanket out and laid down to stare at the stars. Then she said, "Yume kokoro no gekko...ai."

What Kagome didn't realize was that her wish was about to be answered. A boy with long silver hair and yellow eyes was sitting on the other side of the roof. 'She almost saw me' he thought to himself. The boy was wearing a traditional red kimono and atop his head were two little triangular doggie ears. He had a katana tied to his hip. He didn't why he started coming here. It was like he was drawn to this place. To her.

He looked at the girl again. She was asleep, and she was rolling restlessly around. If he didn't stop her she might fall off the roof. So, confident that if he moved fast she wouldn't wake up and see him. He strode over and picked her up bridal style. She stopped tossing and rested peacefully. He leaped into her window and placed her in her bed. He jumped onto the window ledge and whispered in a low voice, "Goodnight Kagome." and disappeared into the night.

Kagome sat strait up in bed. "Whoa! What the hell! How did I get in here?

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**Harai:** Ok Then's! You likies? Please R&R! My hands hurt from typing this chapter. And really, it might be a while before I update. You should understand. High-School. ::rolls eyes:: High- school reminds me of the song, 'The Anthem' by Good Charlotte. I think school sucks. Parents put me there to prevent me from getting into trouble. BIG mistake. I don't pay any attention anyways. I sit in the back with my friends (Jami, Matt, Mark, Oki, Theo, & Drew and others) and listen to my cd-player or draw anime or somethin. But I bet your wondering 'why do I care?!?! Just write more!' I shall try to update as soon as possible.

**Jami:** Wow! That was a lot, Harai! It was like a goodbye speech that your supposed to be doing for English.

**Harai:** ::holds up three fingers:: READ BETWEEN THE LINES!!!!!!!!!!

**Jami:** what? Huh? The lines?.........::looks at hand:: .......Ohhhhhh!........HEY!!!!!!

**Harai: **Review. And tell me what you think of Jami's personal life....

**Jami:** .......WHAT!?!? YOU PUT MY PERSONAL LIFE IN THIS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

**Harai:** Hey! I can't help it if your love life sucks!

**Jami:** LIKE YOU SHOULD TALK! YOU'VE ONLY HAD ONE BOYFRIEND AND THAT ONLY LASTED A WEEK!

**Harai:** ::jumps on jami, covering her mouth:: AHEM. Review!

::runs away to do English speech on Greek goddess Hestia (BURN IN HELL WITH KIKYO) while murmuring incoherent things about Vampiric boyfriends (Hey! He bit my neck for fuck's sake!)::


End file.
